


The Right Blend

by Reyanth



Series: The Right Stuff [1]
Category: B-PROJECT 鼓動＊アンビシャス | B-PROJECT: Kodou Ambitious
Genre: M/M, Scent fettish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 17:07:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11810433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyanth/pseuds/Reyanth
Summary: Based on a story found in Kazuna's SR card in the game:Kazuna has a nasty headache but it turns out Kenken has the cure. Just how drastic is Kazuna's scent fetish, anyway?





	The Right Blend

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. Of all the potential pairings and scenarios, who would have thought my first B Pro fic (that's not a twisted Kuroshitsuji crossover) would be a smutty one-shot of this pairing. lol I'm not a huge fan of Kazuna, but through his eyes, I got to write alllllll about Kenken, so it balances. XD.

If he pressed just a little to the right, the pain dulled, but if he rolled the knuckle of his thumb too far, he overshot and it was back at full force. His fingertips were more accurate but didn’t provide the kind of pressure he needed to quell the throbbing in his temple. The only blessing was that it was dark and quiet in the common area of the ryokan, as it should be so late at night.  
   
Having found out about Hikaru’s illness, Kazuna had been privately freaking out for half the night and the result was a headache that persistently pounded at his right temple like a tiny goblin had found a hammer and thought his brain was a bell to ring.   
   
Kazuna would have been relieved to sleep in his own bed with a soothing fragrance to help him relax and get a good night’s rest but they still had more to shoot the next day, assuming Hikaru and Tatsuhiro were up to it at all.  
   
“Masunaga? Are you alright?”  
   
The quiet voice belonged to Aizome, who had been uncommonly quiet throughout all the commotion, which was rather soothing. With the two MooNs members wreaking havoc and Tomo being his usual parable of perfection self... Well, a quiet presence to lean into was a relief. Especially after the others arrived with all the hustle and bustle befitting a late-night jaunt to the country-side bearing emergency medication. Without that medicine, Hikaru might…   
   
And hell, it wasn’t just Hikaru! Tatsuhiro usually had a pretty good head on his shoulders but when it came to the green tempest that was his hyperactive, chaotic boyfriend, Tatsuhiro tended to lose sight of reason pretty fast. So Kazuna had one sick friend and group-mate, and one hot-headed idiot of a friend and group-mate whose new hobby seemed to be diving off cliffs without a lake to break his fall. Add to that an otaku and a psychic…  
   
Damn. He really had to stop being a drama queen. It wasn’t all bad. He loved MooNs. He just didn’t know how he was going to keep them on track. As leader, that was his responsibility. If Hikaru...  
   
“I'm fine,” he lied, partially to avoid the heartbreaking thought that kept nagging at the back of his mind. "It's just a headache. It'll pass.”  
   
“Here.”  
   
As Aizome's soothing voice approached with that word, Kazuna was surprised to find his guard down. He didn't even flinch when dexterous hands took hold of his own and lowered them, then swiftly took their place, sweeping into a circular massaging motion. The pain immediately lessened and Kazuna let out a relieved breath even though the core hurt remained. He tried to relax and appreciate Aizome's deft touch, forcing himself not to over-think. He focused on the gentle pressure and how each circle seemed to minimize the pain. He didn't want it to stop.  
   
“What is that?” he asked all of a sudden, feeling the throbbing recede almost to nothing with a deep breath that came naturally as his body relaxed.  
   
“Hmmm? What is what?” asked Aizome, keeping his tone mild and not stopping the motion of his fingers for an instant. He was quite the pro.  
   
“That scent.”  
   
Before he could stop himself, he reached up and grabbed Aizome's wrist, pulling it down and turning his cheek until the tip of his nose skimmed creamy skin. It was beautiful.  
   
“It's a custom fragrance,” replied the older man. There was a hint of confusion in his voice but he followed through with the explanation. “Jasmine with a touch of mint and a few other things blended in. I got it from a place in Ginza. They create a scent unique to your skin. If you want, I could take you there some time.”  
   
Kazuna had stopped listening the moment Aizome identified the ingredients. He was too busy filling his head with the fragrance.   
   
The next thing he knew, he was standing and facing his fellow idol, still holding a pale wrist to his cheek bone even as he stared into eyes the very blue of that addictive scent.   
   
“It's gone,” he breathed. “My headache.”  
   
“That's good,” Aizome responded dutifully.   
   
He seemed unusually off-kilter. Kazuna knew his own manner was unusual but the lightheaded relief he was feeling paired with a sense of fascination caused him not to care. In fact, it wasn't so bad putting the confident, womanizing Aizome on the ropes a little.  
   
Only when he recognized the predatory nature of that instinct did Kazuna take a step back and shake off the trance that had come over him. He let Aizome's fingers slip free and fall elegantly back to his side. For a long moment, they stood on either side of the armchair, warily observing one-another.  
   
Aizome's eyes only flickered briefly but that was all the time he needed to evaluate. “Are you…?”  
   
Hard. Hard as granite.  
   
Now Kazuna did begin to feel self-conscious, aware as he was of how suddenly and drastically he had reached this state. “Is that weird?”  
   
Too diplomatic to affirm, Aizome offered a neutral response. “It's surprising.” What sent a tiny thrill of interest through Kazuna was the fact that he didn't take the opportunity to retreat.  
   
He couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he extended a tendril of invitation. Would Aizome be interested? Or was he as girl-crazy as he made out to be? Only one way to find out.  
   
“I could use a cup of tea now that my headache is gone. Would you accompany me?”  
   
It was as if the invitation brushed up against a switch inside of Aizome that turned on the lights and set mechanics whirring. Whatever surprise or wariness had caused his hesitation, it was gone in an instant. “I'm not much a of a tea drinker but if you wouldn't mind upgrading to a can of wine, I'd be glad to keep you company.”  
   
It was no fancy hotel with a rooftop bar but the ryokan had tea and coffee, and a water heater set up in the corner of the common room. Just outside was a pair of vending machines—one with a slightly off-brand selection of teas, soft drinks, and canned coffee… and one with beer, chuhai and some truly awful wine-cooler cans that amounted to little more than fermented grape juice. Or so Kazuna soon learned.  
   
With his knees curled under him on the low two-seater in front of the TV, he leaned away from Aizome and made a face. The rich laugh that followed was somewhat rewarding.  
   
“I promise it will never grow on you,” Aizome teased.   
   
“Ha! We’ll see about that!” Kazuna shot back, grinning through another sip of the vile beverage. It certainly wasn’t growing on him but once his mouth numbed enough he could probably pull off the lie.  
   
They made small-talk for a while, sipping gingerly at the bitter wine until Kazuna shook his can to find it empty and stubbornly went for another round. He was feeling playful and tried to jerk the dangled can out of Aizome’s reach. As a result, he lurched off balance and gratefully went with the tug on his wrist to fall on top of the other man instead of the dubious wooden table at his back.  
   
They chuckled quietly, staying still for a moment and listening for signs that the noise had woken somebody or drawn anyone already awake out to investigate. Aside from their stifled snickers and Kazuna’s heavy breathing after the inertial shock, the night remained silent.   
   
He touched his brow to Aizome’s cheek and took in another lungful of that glorious scent, then extricated himself a little reluctantly, offering the can as he sunk back into his spot on the sofa. A deep quiet settled as Aizome took the wine and just watched him for a short while, then finally popped it open and held it out to clink against Kazuna’s before they each took a mouthful—with a little shudder for having briefly forgotten the disagreeable taste.  
   
Kazuna sighed. The wine was really terrible. Yet, unexpectedly, the company made up for it. “It's unusual to spend time with someone outside of MooNs this way,” he noted.  
   
“We're all part of B-Pro.” The reply was mostly obligatory, as if Aizome was letting him stumble to wherever his subconscious wanted to go.  
   
Even though he was aware of the tactic, Kazuna played right into it. “Of course, and some of our members are closer than others,” he said, not without a touch of bitterness for the loneliness he only just realized he had been wallowing in of late.  
   
“And some aren't close to anyone,” Aizome prodded, both his words and his stare piercing right through Kazuna.  
   
“That's not... My group means a lot to me,” he insisted, even as he inwardly scolded himself for sounding so defensive. “Without them, I'd still be…” _Lost in obscurity._ He shifted uncomfortably, annoyed at himself for ruining the moment they’d been having with the shadows of his petty concerns. “It's just hard. Some of them go out of their way to find time to spare for each other, but all I seem to have time for is either MooNs or B-Project as a whole.”  
   
“Some of _them_.” Aizome leaped right over Kazuna’s complaint and zeroed in on the problematic phrasing.  
   
“…Us,” Kazuna corrected. He almost kicked himself for the oversight but then he realized it was what he had meant. He still had a hard time thinking of B-Project as one large group rather than MooNs, Kitakore, Thrive, and Killer King. It was hard to let go of the sense of competition. Now, for the first time, he was getting to know Aizome for the person he was rather than the charismatic triple-threat with the honey-roasted voice that gave Thrive its edge. If he was lonely, it was his own fault for not trying to change his perspective sooner.  
   
Smiling, Aizome leaned down to place his half-empty can on the floor, then sat up tall and stretched. Instead of settling back where he had been, he lowered his head into Kazuna’s lap and kicked his feet up onto the arm of the sofa. His smirk said it all. He wasn’t going to move unless specifically directed to do so. No excuses to maintain distance here.  
   
“I used to think you were friends with Tomo,” he said once he was comfortable. “What happened?”  
   
The casual way he raised his hand to play with the hem of Kazuna’s sleeve, his warm fingers brushing against slightly chilled skin... It was all part of the Aizome brand but Kazuna was as susceptible as any wilting fangirl. Those blue eyes had a lock on his own and he found it hard to think. “...We're still friends,” he responded belatedly, once he remembered the question.  
   
Aizome tilted his head, the back of his skull brushing Kazuna’s thigh with the motion and causing a tingle Kazuna didn’t want to think about. “No, you're not. You're colleagues who know each other well and respect each other, but you're not friends. Friends make time. They hang out. They seek each other out through whatever means available instead of bottling up stress until it manifests in headaches.”  
   
Finally, the spell was broken and Kazuna averted his eyes. How could Aizome say such harsh things, lying where he was with Kazuna as putty in his hands? It wasn’t fair. “It's not like you're that much closer to anyone—not that you'd have the time with all those girls to keep in contact with.”  
   
“You're right, I'm not.” Aizome’s frank agreement took him by surprise and he glanced down only to be captivated again by the serious cast of those elfin features and the depth of untapped emotion in those blue, blue eyes. Then the man shifted, turning his face towards Kazuna’s belly but keeping his eyes raised. His ear rubbed over the jut of Kazuna’s erection, making it impossible to ignore what this whole encounter was doing to him.  
   
“I get along with everyone equally,” said Aizome, his voice oddly petulant as the hand that had been touching Kazuna’s fell as if to cushion his own cheek but strayed under Kazuna’s shirt instead. His fingers lightly brushed the skin of Kazuna's abdominal muscles in random patterns. It was a playful touch with just the slightest suggestion of sexuality—that was all in Aizome’s eyes. “Yuuta and Goushi are like my brothers,” he continued, “But they're not people I can confide in, or hold when I need comfort... or drink with.”  
   
“And the girls?”  
   
Damn it, it mattered. How could Aizome lay there, steadily reeling him in with effortless charm when he put on such a show of being a womanizing playboy? If he wasn’t straight, what was with the parade of girls and the perpetual flirtation? How could he make Kazuna start to feel like he might be special when they both knew…   
   
“I don't like feeling lonely.”  
   
The soulful stare hit home hard. The palm that flattened on his belly, begging him not to reject the truth of that statement, sent a strange wave through Kazuna as if they were resonating in tune. They both battled with loneliness. How had he never seen it before?  
   
He’d never really looked.  
   
“What’s happening here?” Kazuna whispered.  
   
As open as he had been to the possibility of a little fling once that delicious fragrance invaded and scrambled his senses, he hadn’t really expected the flirtation to lead anywhere. After a couple of drinks, they would have gone back to bed, slept soundly, and gone back to the segregated lifestyles their groups tended to fall into except when B-Project work brought them all together. Aizome was humoring him and his scent-stimulated erection, nothing more. They might even make out a little, just for fun, but that was all. It wouldn’t mean anything. It couldn’t, because they were both too cold and cut-off for anything more.  
   
That was what Kazuna had been counting on. The connection that was developing with rapid intensity wasn’t part of his expectations and it frightened him.  
   
“Send me away,” Aizome breathed, the insistent pressure of his fingertips against Kazuna’s skin begging for the opposite. “I’ll change my fragrance so it won’t bother you again and we’ll chalk all this up to the wine and file it under forgotten.”  
   
As frightening as it was to be standing on the edge of a cliff and not know if hard rocks or yielding water waited below, Kazuna was even more disturbed at the notion of turning away and leaving it at his back, forever unknown. Whatever was happening here was terrifying but it was also something he wanted, or maybe needed.   
   
“Kiss me first,” he challenged.  
   
They both knew full-well by now that once their lips touched, nobody was sending anybody away—except to find a more secluded place to continue. The air was charged and the moment dragged on, Aizome staring up at Kazuna; both frozen with hesitation.   
   
It was Aizome’s hand that made the first move, creeping around under Kazuna’s shirt, along his waist, and across his back. By the time it settled at the base of his spine, Aizome was already rising, and then there was warmth on Kazuna's face, friction against his lips, and jasmine with a hint of mint and more coursing through his veins.   
   
As if claiming his new prize by wrapping it up tight, Aizome somehow maneuvered his right leg between hips and couch, curling his left up to the side. He was seated wholly in Kazuna’s lap, the softness of his buttocks contrasting the hard bulge that was completely unimpeded by loose shorts. His right hand joined the left in exploring, lifting Kazuna’s shirt on its journey to become acquainted with two pert nipples and the subtle curves of pectoral muscles on a lithe frame. He was surprisingly light and he moved so gracefully Kazuna didn’t even notice it happening until he had a lapful of blue-haired beauty.  
   
On the other hand, Aizome's kiss was less overwhelming than Kazuna had expected. There was more invitation than demand and he taunted Kazuna’s tongue to come after his own until it was the younger man pressing to deepen the kiss and stealing away what remained of their breath. Only when his own head was spinning did Kazuna let his partner breathe, and then they were both gasping harshly, trying to clear their heads.  
   
A low hum rumbled through Aizome and seemed to vibrate in Kazuna’s bones.   
   
“For the record, you smell really good, too.”  
   
“I smell like cheap wine and generic bathhouse soap,” Kazuna complained, thinking of his favorite vanilla soap and bubble-gum toothpaste wasted back at home.  
   
Aizome shook his head. “That's not what I smell. It's musky—and maybe there's a hint of that strawberry handcream you take with you on location.” He trailed his hand down Kazuna’s arm and locked their fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to kiss as he breathed in what must have been a very faint trace of strawberry by now.  
   
“You noticed my hand cream?” Kazuna asked, a little surprised to learn that anyone else within the group was as sensitive and partial to fragrances as he was.   
   
Lips to his knuckle, Aizome hummed again. “Lavender for rehearsals and other full days,” he said, opening up Kazuna’s palm and kissing it gently. “Cherry for performances. My favorite is the honey you wear on special occasions.”  
   
It was difficult to decide between mild embarrassment and pleasure at the fact that his penchant for alternating scents based on the occasion had been noted. The fact that Aizome could even match scent to occasion was impressive, and it showed just how much attention he had been paying.  
   
He waited, watched, and allowed as Aizome changed position again, moving over him like a cat until his legs framed Kazuna's and he could arch overhead, pressing the captive man into the back of the sofa. All the while, he thought very quickly and seriously about what he expected, what he wanted, and what was required of him.  
   
A lot was up in the air, but one thing was certain: they were crossing a line. It was time to acknowledge that and accept it.   
   
When next he spoke, it wasn't with the name he had always used in his head. "Kento," he murmured, waiting to see if that was OK.   
   
It was stupid. Most people didn't really care what you called them and Kazuna certainly didn't mind people using his first name if they wanted to, but he only called people by their first name when he felt close enough to do so. It meant something to him. He wasn't sure if Aizome understood that but at the least, the concession was noted.  
   
"Ka-zu-na."  
   
That lilting tease in his tone could have been irritating but instead it brought a silly grin to Kazuna's lips. He liked it when Aizome spoke his name; especially when he enunciated it like that. It was sexy—and intimate.   
   
They were kissing again and Kazuna made a muffled sound as he was absorbed into the sofa stuffing under Aizome's exerted weight. He gasped in a breath when his mouth was released and blinked up at the ceiling as moistened lips began to hunt down patches of exposed flesh to kiss. Belatedly, he realized where that blue head was traveling and jerked, looking around and searching the shadowed doorway and the hallway beyond.  
   
"We can't," he hissed. "Not here! What if someone comes?"  
   
Aizome's smirk was downright sinful. "That much, I can promise," he goaded, quickly following up, "Let me just take care of this one thing and then we can relocate."  
   
It was almost too cliche to argue and doing so would probably be too noisy anyway. It would be safer to just go with the flow and let Aizome have his way.  
   
Frankly, the logical arguments were little more than excuses. Kazuna's body had already made the decision. He was too hard to decline and Aizome knew it. They'd been talking for over an hour and the whole time, he'd maintained various stages of arousal. As soon as Aizome began to touch him, Kazuna had gone past the point of no return.  
   
There was no pretense of foreplay, no stripping or whispered promises. Aizome just held his eyes for as long as possible as he pulled loose shorts down far enough to free the rigid length that sprang eagerly up to bop his pretty nose. His tongue immediately flicked out to explore.  
   
Kazuna's breath hitched and he preemptively brought his hand to his mouth so he could chew on a knuckle if he felt the urge to grunt or groan. Sound traveled unimpeded in these old places.   
   
Aizome was good with his tongue. That didn't come as a surprise in the least. What was a little odd was Kazuna's sense of distraction.  
   
The pressured patterns of that sinuous tongue, the caress of soft lips, the immersion into wet heat; all of it felt amazing. Kazuna hadn't been treated to this kind of devoted attention since... No, it was a first. He was usually the one giving his all to bring pleasure to his partner. It made him feel just a tiny bit guilty but he knew he would eventually give back two-fold.   
   
Meanwhile, it wasn't the sensation that had him fighting the instinct to moan—it was the sight. Aizome had to be the only man Kazuna knew who genuinely looked beautiful sucking cock. When he wasn't staring into Kazuna's eyes, his lavish lashes were lowered to match the angle of his long, straight nose as it rose and fell along the length of Kazuna's thrumming arousal. A vision of aqua, ivory, and spots of pink, seeing Aizome bob between his thighs was just about the most unique thing Kazuna could ever imagine and it was really fucking hot.  
   
Eventually, he noticed Aizome holding his hair behind his ear and he reached down to twine his fingers into silky blue locks, holding them out of the way while enjoying the sensation of that hair around his fingers. It was just about all he could take.  
   
Drawing in a slow, deep breath, Kazuna braced himself. When the wave crested, he channeled the excess of energy that coursed through him into breath that shuddered and rasped. He was hardly silent but at least he wasn't shouting. The effort left him trembling, his hips bucking involuntarily as Aizome's lanky fingers stroked him through the orgasm.  
   
Through slitted eyes, Kazuna caught sight of the man licking his lips even as his surge of bliss abated. That vision squeezed one last pulse from him before his hips melted into the cushions. Belatedly, he realized he was sucking on the side of his index finger, which he had been biting down on moments ago without really noticing. He relaxed his lips and slowly let his hand fall to his chest, still staring down at the blue head resting on top of his thigh like a pet waiting for praise.   
   
"Think the bathhouse is still open?" he asked, deliberately holding back that praise.  
   
"I think it could be arranged," Aizome replied, not budging an inch.  
   
"Come here," Kazuna whispered, beckoning with a finger.  
   
Aizome did as requested, leaning over Kazuna and waiting passively for instruction despite the inherent power of his position.  
   
"Do you want me?" Kazuna asked, so quietly that deciphering the words would require a small measure of lip-reading.  
   
It was the kind of question Kazuna would never ask without being fairly certain he knew the answer. If the solidity of the thing dangling against his thigh was any indication, there was very little room for doubt.  
   
"I want to know you better—the real you, the private you," Aizome whispered back, his breath puffing against Kazuna's lips with each word. "I want to touch and taste every inch of your body," he continued, the heat rising in his eyes. "And I want to know what it feels like to be inside you and make you scream even when you shouldn't."  
   
"Would you settle for two and a half out of three?" Kazuna asked, his voice a little unsteady as he tried not to imagine it too vividly.   
   
"I'd settle for one," Aizome quipped, nipping a quick kiss and withdrawing before Kazuna could reach for more. "But I'm an overachiever and I'll be aiming for three."  
   
With that promise lingering in Kazuna's ears, Aizome swiftly retreated, disappearing from the common room before Kazuna could even sit up. While he waited, he adjusted his clothes, playing with the waistband of his shorts and thinking on what was to come. He still didn't really know what he was getting into—beyond the physical. Aizome was hinting at a much deeper interest or attraction than he felt he was ready for, but he might just benefit from giving it a chance. No-one had ever made him feel as noticed and appreciated as Aizome had done in the last couple of hours. No-one had ever bothered to try. Certainly not his one lover, who he had been with less and less over the last few years.  
   
Again with the dramatics! That wasn’t true, exactly. His fans gave him plenty of reason to feel loved. It just wasn’t the same as having someone close by with whom he could relate to; who could really see him and make him feel special. It was what he’d always wanted from Tomo and never really got.  
   
When Aizome posed against the door frame and wiggled a pair of keys on a ring, Kazuna craned around to observe him, leaning over the back of the sofa. He grinned right back at that proud, playful look.  
   
Here was a man who saw him, and who could make him smile even when he was starting to fall into the usual trap of his own depressing thoughts. It was hard not to appreciate that all over again, looking at the way that body naturally aligned into the most appealing posture. Aizome was made to be admired.  
   
“Coming?” he murmured suggestively, tipping his head.  
   
“Coming,” Kazuna replied with a straight face.  
   
Before he followed after his companion, he took a moment to straighten up the cushions, inspect for stains, and picked up the four cans—one still half-full. Once they were disposed of, he headed in the direction Aizome had disappeared in and found the man waiting for him in the shadows behind the blue curtain that signified the men’s bath.   
   
“How did you get those?” he whispered, referring to the keys. “There’s no-one at the desk at this hour.”  
   
“That’s how I got them,” Aizome responded, even as he unlocked the old sliding door as quietly as possible. “They haven’t posted any rules about not using the bath late at night and the keys were just hanging there for anyone to grab.”  
   
“We’ll have to be really quiet,” Kazuna noted. “It’s really echoey and you can hear people talking in there from the other side of the building.”  
   
“Shhh.”   
   
Kazuna supposed that was an agreement, but he forgot why he cared when Aizome proceeded to shut him up with a spontaneous kiss, pulling him close. Their body heat drove away some of the chill of the early morning.  
   
Without another word, Aizome drew him into the changing area and began a silent striptease, chucking his chin to urge Kazuna to do the same. Feeling shy, he tried to copy some of the moves Aizome was demonstrating but it just wasn’t his style. Giving up, he started playing coy; slowly and shyly removing articles of clothing to reveal his skin in the dim glow that came from a vending machine crammed into the small room.        
   
It was sillier than it was sexy, but he was learning that a lot of Aizome's natural charm came from his ability to take silly things seriously and convert them into something more intense.  
   
When they were fully derobed, Aizome planted a hand on Kazuna's backside and pushed him through to the tiled bathing area then locked the outer door behind them. It was a smart move. That way, nobody could walk in on them.  
   
Kazuna was running the water when Aizome joined him. Once it was warm enough, he rinsed himself down and then aimed the spray at creamy white skin that wouldn't suffer from a few glistening rivulets.  
   
Aizome chuckled low in his throat and spread his arms wide as if to say, "Do your worst!"  
   
A laugh escaped Kazuna, quickly stifled, and he sheepishly turned to return the shower head to its holder. Then he squeaked as he was caught from behind and pulled back against Aizome's body.  
   
Reaching for the soap, the older man began to lather up Kazuna's skin, running his hands everywhere with the excuse of spreading the suds.  
   
"Why haven't we done this before?" he said quietly into Kazuna's ear.  
   
Leaning comfortably back against Aizome, Kazuna wondered that himself. The man had such a pleasant touch, gentle but confident. "For one thing, I thought you were straight," he confided eventually as one hand dipped low to caress his inner thighs.  
   
Aizome sounded surprised. "I guess Shuuji knows what he's doing."  
   
"Do I want to know?"  
   
"Not really."  
   
Slowly, Kazuna reached back and ran his hand from Aizome's outer thigh up his hip."But now you have to tell me because I'm curious."  
   
"Is that the rule?" Aizome pressed his ever-stiffer length into the small of Kazuna's back.  
   
"It is now," Kazuna said on a wisp of breath, creeping his fingers in between their bodies until he found the jutting hardness that was teasing him and gingerly felt out its shape.  
   
"Well, we could have played the BL card but with Yuuta's baby face and Goushi's intense lack of people skills, Shuuji decided I had to seem more approachable."  
   
As Aizome spoke, Kazuna turned, wanting to see his eyes as he spoke the truth. "So this harem thing you have going is just a scam to make you look straight?" he questioned, stroking more deliberately.  
   
"That's one purpose."  
   
"What else?"  
   
Aizome reached down and stopped his hand, then ran his own through the soap lathered upon Kazuna's skin, sliding them around to his backside. He held Kazuna's gaze and spoke casually even as he started pressing a finger neatly into Kazuna's body.  
   
"It makes me happy. I like hanging out with girls. Most idols can't get away with that but it's part of my image now. Shuuji's plan worked."  
   
"Hanging out?" Kazuna's voice shook. Aizome already had two fingers inside of him, but they froze at his question.  
   
"Kazu, I don't sleep with them. I flirt and date, and stay in touch—but I couldn't even if I wanted to."  
   
Clinging tightly, Kazuna arched his neck back so he was staring right up into starling blue. "You're really gay, then. Not even bi?"  
   
"Not even a little bit." The point was punctuated with a poignant crook of the fingers. "And what's more? I'm picky."  
   
The pointed comment tweaked a smile at Kazuna's lips. It was a direct appeal to his ego to put an end to the questioning, and it worked.  
   
He whimpered and rested his cheek against Aizome's chest, letting the man support him as three fingers worked deftly in and out of him.  
   
He almost regretted washing Aizome down. The fragrance that had eliminated his headache and so fascinated him was almost gone. All that was left was a faint floral reminder. Yet, the scent that triggered his libido remained. It was Aizome's own aroma and as he breathed it in, Kazuna found himself grinding his fully re-awakened erection against a slim thigh.  
   
Aizome's fingers ground to a halt and slipped carefully out of him. Only then did Kazuna realize his partner was breathing hard. When he looked up, Aizome's cheeks were flushed. He wanted to touch them, or to plant a kiss on parted lips, but he hesitated too long, and the next thing he knew, he was being spun around and urged toward the low wall between the open stalls.   
   
"Kazuna." Pushed right up against him, his voice husky with want and the warmth of his body radiating through Kazuna's skin, Aizome spoke in a frank tone that sent minute shivers through his ready and willing partner. "I know this is new for you...but it isn't for me. I've thought about this for a long time."  
   
"I wish I'd known," Kazuna whispered emotionally. He truly did.   
   
Apparently the affirmation intended was evident. Aizome slid an arm around Kazuna's slick waist and braced his feet as he lined himself up and then pressed inside. The noise that tumbled from Kazuna's lips would have been a cry if he hadn't already choked it off. "Shhh," soothed Aizome, stroking Kazuna's damp hair and wriggling his hips a little as he shifted his feet for better purchase.   
   
"I know," Kazuna gasped. "It's just... been a while."  
   
"Am I hurting you?" Aizome asked, stilling his hips.  
   
"No," Kazuna insisted. "Don't stop."  
   
His nerve endings buzzed and his erection leaked from the tip as Aizome's cock grazed his inner walls, creating a delicious friction. Tomo had always been just a little too big for comfort but Aizome felt amazing inside of him. Even with the slippery floor and the way Kazuna's soapy body slid against the wall, they moved together well and he trusted Aizome not to let him fall. That was important, because he was quickly losing his ability to reason and his physical instincts were probably shot.   
   
Soon, he was almost doubled over, his fingertips hanging onto the top of the wall for purchase and all of his weight thrust back toward the man grinding into him. It wasn't the most vigorous sex ever—they'd slip and fall in moments if they tried to get too wild—but it was hot. Kazuna dropped one arm to stroke himself and curled his toes for better balance as a stronger thrust tipped him forward. He thrust back hard and braced himself as Aizome's motions grew quicker and sharper. He must be close.  
   
Straightening up, Kazuna shuffled forward awkwardly until his feet and chest were aligned with the wall and reached an arm up around the back of Aizome's neck, holding them together. "Go on," he gasped. "Pound me."  
   
With a strangled sound, his lover did just that, driving them both over the edge with a series of desperate thrusts that just happened to slam right into Kazuna's sweet spot. He moaned heavily around the wrist hastily stuffed between his teeth, aware of how hard he was biting down but helpless to do anything about it.  
   
Panting and momentarily weak, they both swayed. Aizome slipped a little, and tightened his hold on Kazuna to keep his footing. Gingerly, they both sank to the wet tiles to prevent any further close calls. Leaning his head back against the stall, Kazuna blinked lazily, taking in Aizome's lanky form, sprawled out, held up only by two skinny arms. His eyes were drawn to the star tattoo and then roamed back to the face that kept stealing his interest.   
   
Aizome really was beautiful.  
   
"So, if you're gay, that makes Kaneshiro the straightest guy in B-Pro," he said, not quite ready to address the issue of what might happen next.  
   
"What?" Aizome sounded confused for a moment but then his chin snapped downward and he pinned Kazuna with a look.  "You know Goushi is with the twins, right?"  
   
"What? No!"  
   
"Oh. Damn. I really thought everybody knew about that. I mean, it's pretty obvious."  
   
"Not everybody has your experience in matters of romance, you know. In fact, we're a pretty sheltered bunch."  
   
"Good point." Aizome chuckled. "Which begs the question... Where did you learn to be such a vixen in the sack?"  
   
The question caught Kazuna off-guard and he failed to respond, wondering whether he should be open about that part of his relationship history or if it would discourage Aizome or cause trouble within B-Project. He really didn't know the protocol in circumstances like this.  
   
As it turned out, it was out of his hands.  
   
"...Tomo?"  
   
Sighing partially with relief and partially with regret, Kazuna nodded. "...On and off. Mostly off. He and Ryuuji are pretty serious these days."  
   
"Sorry. I should have left that alone."  
   
Aizome's regret was obviously not for what he had heard but, rather, for darkening Kazuna's mood. It turned out he was pretty sweet that way.  
   
Kazuna couldn't just let the conversation dwindle and die on that note, so he cast around for something less awkward to redirect things. "So...he's dating both of the Teramitsu twins? How does that even work?"  
   
Aizome scoffed, easily going along with the change of topic. "Have you met the twins?"  
   
"Well, yeah. A couple of times. At work."  
   
They were cute and bright. Well, Haruhi was bright, and Yuzuki was cute, and sometimes those traits were reversed. They were the last people Kazuna could imagine with gruff Goushi, even if they had known each other overseas...and both of them? What the hell did that mean, exactly?  
   
"Get to know them and you'll see," Aizome teased him with a wink.  
   
Kazuna smiled, bumping his foot against Aizome's knee. "I'd rather get to know you," he said.  
   
"Well then, you're off to a good start."  
   
When a yawn came out of nowhere to crack Kazuna's jaw, he suddenly realized how tired he was—and also how relaxed. When he crept back into the room he was sharing with a soundly sleeping Tomo, he found he was ready to drift off to sleep right away and even one last thought of Hikaru and the sad revelation that had triggered his headache to begin with couldn't keep him awake for the two hours before they had to be up and shooting.  
   
When he woke, bleary-eyed and sluggish, Kazuna couldn't help but feel it was the best sleepless night he had ever spent, and if his mood was inappropriately bright that day, he was only outshone by Hikaru himself (which effectively curtailed any guilt) and a certain jasmine-scented, blue-haired wonder. 

**Author's Note:**

> This universe continues in The Right Stuff series.


End file.
